Cost of Pandora
by Zillah 91
Summary: Something is amiss on the planet Rivesh- an ancient war is renewing, while a mysterious force toys with the human explorers. The Doctor may find a new companion- if he manages to live that long. Please R&R!
1. Part One

_OK, this is one of my first attempts at a DW story. Basically, two things inspired this: firstly, while I can't deny enjoying the new series, one thing I disliked was the lack of Time Lords. Secondly, as I hope many will agree, it's about damn time the Doctor had an alien sidekick._

_So, I present to you a little story set in a universe where the Time Lords still exist, and of course our dear Doctor is still wandering the universe…_

_Doctor Who is © BBC_

**COST OF PANDORA**

**Part One**

"_Planet Rivesh_," the smooth, female voice of the info-spike recited, _"colloquially known as Farpoint: average temperature 17.2 degrees Celsius, atmosphere tolerable to humans and similar life forms. Native species: Iolan and Shen. Silfrax Galaxy. One of the last five uncolonised planets in its sector…"_

"Will you bloody turn that off?" Gray snapped as he jabbed his shovel back into the ice again. "Hard enough to break through this without your bloody toy whittering away like that."

"Sorry, Corporal," the young man to his right said, hastily shoving the device back into his pocket. "Sure you don't need a hand there, sir?"

"Well, since somebody got his shovel snatched away from him, that's not likely to happen, is it?" Gray snapped. Seeing the look of embarrassment cross the youth's face, he softened and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't look so glum, lad- bound to happen. Just one of those things, like the waste-recycles always backing up when they're needed. Besides, we're only grabbing one soil sample, and- "

Before he could finish, there was an upward burst of snow from the ground, and he winced as something jabbed into his hand. It was a tiny, thin cylinder of glass, narrowing into a sharp point- which was now embedded in the skin of his hand, having effortlessly punched through his thick gloves. And, inside, a tiny quantity of clear liquid was sinking into his body.

"Jay…" he gulped, staggering as his limbs suddenly turned to lead, "fetch the… medic…"

"Corporal?" The young ship-hand stared dumbly as Gray collapsed. "Corporal!"

---

In a small clearing, a cluster of thick, blue trees stood in a circle. Their branches formed a tight, knotted ring, and birds covered in silver fur took off into the glaring sunlight, the soft outlines of two other planets visible in the clear, blue-green sky. The only thing to disturb the calm was the sudden whirring, and a rush of wind that send the snow into a flurry.

It appeared in seconds, first only a faint outline, and then the old, battered police box stood firmly rooted in the snow, as though it had always been there. The front doors opened with a creak, and the machine disgorged a man who looked particularly out of place. Then again, with his shaggy hair, yellow shirt, khaki waistcoat, grey jeans and long red coat, he'd probably have stood out anywhere.

He took a few paces, securing an old, worn, black straw hat, then paused in mid-step. "This isn't Cornwall, is it?" he asked to the empty air. "No, certainly not." He placed his hands on his waist, swaying from side to side as he examined his surroundings. "Hmm. Bit on the cold side, but it seems nice. Let's see," he turned his attention to the planets in the sky, "if I'm not mistaken, that's the Rexal Configuration, which makes this… _ah_. Rivesh. Always wanted to take a peek. Well, then, I'll forgive you, old girl," he smiled, patting the side of the battered old machine. "Right then," he said to himself, "let's see what we can see."

As the Doctor strutted away between the trees, something stirred under the snow. It said, in its own tongue and in a thin, raspy voice: "_Confirm biometric scan?"_

"_Unable to confirm"_, came the reply, "_Planet of Origin: Unknown. Species: Unknown.."_

"_Recommendation?"_

"_Procedure 001. Observe. Obtain precise biometric identification."_

"_Acknowledged. Will observe."_

Some distance ahead by now, the Doctor, quite unaware of the fact that he was being observed, came to a stop and admired the view. The city was quite unlike any other: the skyscrapers, the office blocks, hospitals, schools and houses, all looked just as they might on any other planet. There was, however, one distance, clear even from this far away: it was all constructed of pure, shimmering ice.

---

"You've been fighting again, Misorel?"

The girl looked up, keeping her arms wrapped round her knees as she sat at the base of the old bluewood. "I am reflecting," she said quietly, as was the custom among Iolans. She pushed some of her light-blue hair over her shoulder, brushing against skin that was white as snow. Her eyes had no pupils, but instead large, powder-blue irises.

"I will have to speak with your caregivers," the instructor told her.

"They started it," Misorel answered sulkily. "They always do."

"Nevertheless. You will report to the Chief Instructor's office after Noontime." The instructor walked away, leaving his troublesome student to her thoughts. She idly drew a circle in the snow with her finger, then crossed it out.

"You were telling on us," a voice said above her. Rorell, his pure-white hair tied back, glared down at her from beside his friend. "Weren't you?"

"Leave me alone," Misorel said, though any menace it might have held was lost the instant she said it out loud. She turned her eyes down to the snow, as if that would help.

"Or what?" Rorell smirked. "You'll tell your parents?"

Misorel flinched. She gave no reply, instead standing straight up and walking away. There was no use in fighting them- they'd just win, and she'd just get in trouble again.

"Did you hear?" She heard one of the other youths say as she walked past. "There was a Shen attack last night. Five people died…"

She didn't want to listen to it. Not today. And so, she made up her mind. She was getting out of there, just for the day, just out of the hope that something, anything, new might happen.

---

The two security guards grabbed hold of Gray, pinning him down to the table. He thrashed blindly, giving a suppressed howl- had his mouth not been swelling up, he'd almost certainly have screamed. Patches of his skin were turning brown and beginning to flake, leaking with pus, and clumps of his hair, their ends stained with blood, littered the floor.

"What's wrong with him?" The Captain asked, watching the ship's doctor inject a syringe into Gray's neck.

"I don't know sir," Dr. Reeves shook his head, "I've never seen anything like it. Every cell in his body's breaking down. You did the right thing not touching him, Jay," he said to the ship-hand who was sat quietly in the corner, "he doesn't seem contagious, but it's probably best to keep him safe."

The door to the medical bay opened with a mechanical '_swish_'. "Captain Myers," the young officer reported, "still no report back from Professor Simms' team. It's been seventeen hours, sir."

"Seventeen," the captain repeated, leaning against the wall. "He couldn't have lasted out there for that long." He closed his eyes for a moment, muttering something under his breath. "That' it, Lieutenant: tell engineering that I want the engines repaired within the hour."

"Sir?"

"We're pulling out."

"But sir, the mission parameters state-"

"Don't quote me regulations, Lieutenant," the Captain snapped, "one of my crew is half-dead, and three others are missing. I'm not risking any more of my men on this God-forsaken rock."

---

Misorel rested her chin in her open palms, sitting on an old log as she looked over the lake- which was, of course, covered in a sheet of ice. And this was summer on Rivesh. It would be nice, of course, to go out there once, to see what else there was. Maybe the ships that came and went every now and then…

Or just to get away from all the taunts and jeers. That wouldn't be so bad…

"Somehow I get the feeling you're upset."

Misorel sat bolt upright as if she'd been given an electric shock. The source of the voice, already sitting down next to her, was certainly like no Iolan she'd seen- his skin was pinker, and his hair was the colour of weevil-straw. Then, of course, she remembered the ships.

"O-outworlders aren't allowed within the city limits," she said reflexively.

"Well, I shouldn't worry, the city limits are about half a mile that way," the man said, pointing back over his shoulder. "Heavens, child, you look like a rabbit in headlights- here," he dug into his pocket, "have a jelly baby."

Misorel took one of the soft, squishy treats, and, after cautiously watching the stranger do the same, popped it into her mouth. It wasn't bad, actually. "Are you one of the explorers?" she asked. "The… humans?" she believed that was what they called themselves.

"I'm _an_ explorer," the man said, "certainly not human. I'm the Doctor. And you?"

"Misorel."

"Ah. A lovely name. That city: that would be Tsolan, correct? I've never been myself, but another decade or two and it'll be the height of elegance in this system."

Misorel blinked. This Doctor, whoever he was, was talking absolute nonsense.

"_Misorel_!" This time she stood up, as the two older members of her species ran through the trees. "What on Earth are you doing, child?" the older one snapped, "get away from him! You know you're not supposed to-"

"Mother, it's alright!" Misorel protested, "we're outside the city limits."

"What do you think you're doing?" the other, whom the Doctor assumed to be the father of them family, demanded, pointing at the Doctor. "There is such a thing as a treaty, you know, and-"

"It's quite alright," the Doctor said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of white paper. "See? Written permission from the City Leaders. Ambassador John Smith; civil capacity."

"Well," the father said, clearly taken aback, "be that as it may, I'd have thought you'd exercise more caution than this. You could've gotten my daughter exiled if someone less understanding had come along!"

"Exiled?" the Doctor stared, "well, I know children shouldn't take to strangers, but that seems a bit extreme."

"And you, Misorel," the mother scolded, "what are you doing outside the limits? You've heard about the attacks! And what are you doing out of the learning?"

"I was just going for a walk," Misorel said awkwardly.

"Well, you're going straight back. Your father and I will deal with you once you get back. I'm terrible sorry, sir," she turned back to the Doctor with a fake smile, "but you'll have to _ambassador_ to someone else."

"Go on, Misorel," the father instructed, "and I expect you to reflect on this."

"Actually," the Doctor interrupted, "terrible sorry, but I'm an incorrigible meddler, and I was wondering what you meant by "attacks"?"

"Where on earth have you been?" the father half-laughed, "the Shen, of course!"

"Shen? …_Ah_, yes, the Shen. Wait, you don't mean that the Shen have been attacking you, do you?"

"The Shen Elders say they're separatists," the father scoffed, "not a bit of it. They're all in it together. They bombed a hospital last week. Disgusting."

"Wait- what year is this?" the Doctor pressed.

"Year?" the father gaped, "you've been at the Voor wine, have you? It's the Century of the Bird, Seventeenth year."

"Hmm. That's…" the Doctor counted off on his fingers, "2516 by the Galactic calendar? Well, that's not right."

"What isn't?" Misorel piped up.

"Well, the war between the Iolans and the Shen should have ended in 2510. "

"Ended?" the father shook his head, "if anything it's gotten worse!"

"Hmm." The Doctor flapped the piece of paper against his open palm. "Interesting. All terribly interesting…"

"Anyway, if Ambassador Smith is about done being strange, I think Misorel should be getting back to school," the mother said brusquely. "Come on, girl. I'm late for a counsellation because of you…"

"Oh, well if there's a problem," the Doctor chimed in, "I'd be more than willing to escort her. I was going that way, anyway; I'm supposed to act as an emissary within the education system as well, you see- that's why I stopped to talk to your daughter."

"Fine, fine," the father sighed, "we've got to be going. And don't think that we won't discuss this later, Misorel."

And so, the Doctor and Misorel set off back toward the school. "Now, Misorel," the Doctor said, "tell me about this situation with the Shen."

---

"_Information has been recovered."_

"_Proceed."_

"_Subject Ident: 'Doctor'."_

"_Known. Will inquire with the Self."_

---

"We were at war with the Shen for many cycles," Misorel explained as she and the Doctor carried on down the street, "and there was a ceasefire six turns ago."

"I see. And these continued attacks?"

"They started again this last turn," Misorel said. "We all thought it had ceased for good. There were terrible things done."

"I see."

"My forebears," Misorel said quietly. "You call them parents. They died when I was young."

"Oh. I'm very sorry," the Doctor said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's alright. My foster parents are good to me, but they can't be my real mother and father. It's just that these attacks remind me of them."

"And because of these attacks, the city has been sealed off?"

"The people are scared. They do not wish to speak to the explorers, either. Anyone who breaks the restrictions is subject to exile."

"Am I right in thinking this isn't your first brush with the law?" the Doctor asked.

"I've wanted to meet the explorers many times. They only want to learn, but we treat them like the enemy. They are different, so the Iolans shun them."

"Hmm." The Doctor paused, looking around. The street was indeed deserted. "You know," he said shrewdly, "it wouldn't be inconceivable for you to have snuck out of school after I left."

"Oh?"

"Indeed, and with that in mind, it's quite possible that you'd have wandered out of the city limits again."

"In the company of a human explorer?"

"I could have found you," the Doctor said, holding up the paper, "and be bringing you back to the city."

Misorel started to smile. "And if I were to do such a thing, where might I follow you?"

---

The woods certainly got thicker outside of the city limits. The Doctor and Misorel both looked around inquisitively, or in the Doctor's case, rather suspiciously. Something, evidently, was amiss on Rivesh.

"What is that paper?" Misorel asked. "The one you showed my father?"

"Oh, that? Psychic paper. It shows people whatever I want. Marvellous invention, really; before I got it, I spent half my time in jail cells."

"Yes," Misorel said faintly, "you never said who you really are."

"Rather reckless of you, then, following me out here."

"You have kindness about you," Misorel smiled. "There is something curious about you- you are as young as a flower, and as old as a mountain. And you seem…" she stared off into the distance for a moment, "sad. So far from a home you can't go back to…"

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, about to say something in reply, and then remembered. "Oh. Yes, that's right."

"I- I'm sorry," Misorel blushed, "didn't you know?"

"I rather forgot for a moment. Iolans are empathic, yes?"

"We read strong emotions in others," Misorel explained. "Yours are powerful. You were never taught to control them?"

"Well, what's the point in that?" the Doctor replied brashly. "People who want to control their own emotions often try to control other people. I've seen enough of those sort of creatures for one lifetime, thank you."

"You talk strangely," Misorel smiled. "You must have many turns."

"Oh, an awful lot. You?"

"Only sixteen. I am not yet of age."

"Hmm." The Doctor searched his memory. "Yes, Iolans have arranged marriages, correct?"

"My destined one died during one of the attacks. I never actually met him."

"Well, if it helps, my approach to those matters is just to throw the whole thing out the-" the Doctor stopped as he stepped into a spacious clearing. "Well, just look at that."

The ship was half-buried in the snow, the top half of its body formed of sleek, smooth silver metal. The word _Wayfarer_ was emblazoned across its side.

"An explorer's transport machine," Misorel commented. "I shouldn't go near it."

"I shouldn't worry," the Doctor said, tapping his fingers against his folded arms to the sound of footsteps. "They're hardly going to report us. And besides, we have something much more urgent to worry about."

"What?"

"Well, we've stopped walking…" the Doctor said warily, "so where are those footprints coming from?"

Tall, scaly-skinned, clad in animal skins and wielding a bronze crossbow, the alien soldier froze in its tracks and took aim at Misorel. "_For the Glory of the Shen,_" it hissed, "_the Iolan will be buried!_"

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Yeah, I thought I'd upload this in four "episodes", in the style of the classic DW serials. Next Time: What is happening to the crew of the Wayfarer, and what is behind the war between the Iolans and Shen?_

_Questions for anyone who feels like reviewing:_

_1. What do you guys reckon to this version of the Doctor? He's sort of intended as a mix of Four, Seven and Ten._

_2. Similarly, what's the verdict on Misorel? Is she companion material?_

_3. What do you think of the Iolan culture, since I put a lot of thought into it?_

_4. Can anyone guess what our alien menace is- and no, the Shen aren't the threat._

_All Reviews Welcome!_


	2. Part Two

_And now we come to the second part of our tale. Let's hope for some more reviews this time… not that I use that to measure my worth as a human being or anything. That would be sad._

_Ahem. Yes._

_Doctor Who is © BBC_

**Previously:** The TARDIS takes the Doctor to the ice planet Rivesh, where something has infected a crewmember on the _Wayfarer_, an exploration ship from Earth, with a strange disease, and other crewmembers have disappeared. The conflict between the planet's two native species, the Iolans and the Shen, has also been reignited. Teaming up with an Iolan girl named Misorel to investigate, the Doctor comes across the _Wayfarer_. Moments later, the two are attacked by a crazed Shen soldier.

**COST OF PANDORA**

**Part Two**

Tall, scaly-skinned, clad in animal skins and wielding a bronze crossbow, the alien soldier froze in its tracks and took aim at Misorel. "_For the Glory of the Shen,_" it hissed, "_the Iolan will be buried!_"

The Doctor grabbed Misorel and pulled her to the ground, as the Shen soldier's bolt imbedded itself in the tree behind them. With an inarticulate shout of rage, the Shen grabbed the Doctor by his collar and pulled him away, throwing him into the side of the tree and once again taking aim. Before he could fire, something struck his back, and, with a primal snarl, he fell to his knees. His suddenly-limp body collapsed to one side, dropping the crossbow into the snow.

"Misorel!" the Doctor shouted, pushing himself to his feet, "are you alright?"

"I'm not hurt," she confirmed, "what about him?"

The Doctor knelt down next to the Shen's body, placing his fingertips on its temple- the best place to feel a Shen's pulse. "Dead," he shook his head with a sigh. "And he seemed rather upset as well."

"The Shen are hardly friends to the Iolans," Misorel reminded him, kneeling down next to the body. "But before the attacks started, some of us saw past that. One of my friends was a Shen." She picked up a handful of snow, allowing it to fall onto the dead Shen's head.

"That's an Iolan funeral rite, isn't it?"

"We believe the snow carries our souls," Misorel explained. "It probably seems silly."

"Not really. Back home, we cremate our dead. Set them on fire," he explained after seeing Misorel's puzzled expression. "Of course, you're missing the big question here."

"I am?"

"Yes. You see, nobody's shot at us, but we don't actually know who shot the poor fellow…" as if on cue, a trio of humans emerged from the trees with a shuffling of footsteps, cocking their weapons as they pointed at the Doctor and Misorel. "…which would be these fellows."

Captain Myers stepped forward, keeping his own weapon trained on the Doctor. "You two," he ordered, stand up and turn around." Misorel rose to her feet and turned to face him. The Doctor stood up, turned a full three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, and knelt back down to continue examining the dead Shen. "You," Myers barked, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I think I'm examining this Shen. Actually, I'm quite certain of it, and Misorel's in my light at the moment, so would it be alright if she sat down? She just had quite the ordeal, you see, and-"

"Who the hell are you?"

"Ambassador John Smith. Earth ambassador to Tsolan. Here, I have my credentials, if I might." He pulled out the psychic paper, holding it up to Myers. He irritably swatted it away.

"Take these two back to the ship. Whoever you are, that I.D. is a fake- there _aren't_ any ambassadors to Tsolan."

"Very well- I'm the Doctor. This is Misorel."

"Medical man, huh?" Myers yanked the still-uncooperative Doctor to his feet. "Then I've got something you'll definitely want to see."

"Oh, by the way, just while we're here," the Doctor added, "you seem to have shot this poor chap- I was wondering if there was any particular reason?"

"We saw him pointing a weapon at you. You're welcome. Now mush."

---

The door into the _Endeavour_ opened with the sound of grinding machinery. The Doctor and Misorel were ushered in, and the latter's anxiety was suddenly replaced with an expression of wonder, looking around like a small child taken to the beach for the first time.

"This is a spaceship?" she asked, "it's amazing. How does it fly?"

"In this period, I'd imagine it to be a slipstream engine," the Doctor speculated. "And frankly, if you find this ship impressive, you should see mine."

"If you're done trying to pick up the locals, Doctor," Myers interrupted, "you can take a look at my crewmember. And maybe tell me what you know about what's going on around here."

"Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing," the Doctor said as they followed him down the corridor, "how long have the Iolans and Shen been at loggerheads?"

"How the hell should I know? We've only been here three days, and that's all it's taken for three of my crew to go missing and another to turn up like Gray."

He opened the door of the sickbay to show Gray, strapped down to the table, thrashing his limbs as his face was contorted in agony. The brown, flaky patches now covered most of his body, and his hair had almost entirely fallen out.

Misorel looked like she was about to vomit. Instead, she forced herself to simply shudder and make a gesture that consisted of moving her fingers across her chest, whispering "by the snow" under her breath.

"What's wrong with him?" the Doctor asked, approaching the table.

"He's not contagious," the ship's doctor told him. "Dr. Reeves," he shook the Doctor's hand, "it seems he's suffering from some kind of cellular breakdown. Some kind of chemical's entered his body, but it's like nothing we've ever seen before."

"Interesting." The Doctor leaned over Gray. "I'd like to see the readouts. I take it you can't cure him?"

"Evidently not. Maybe if we knew what did this- there are a few poisonous animals on Rivesh, but administering the wrong antidote could finish him off. In his condition, we can't exactly ask him."

"I can help," Misorel piped up. She stepped over toward Gray, placing one hand on his forehead. She looked afraid for a moment, or apprehensive about what she was about to do. She closed her eyes, then took a sharp intake of breath, squinting them tightly. Gritting her teeth, she suddenly seemed as though she was struggling to stand.

"Misorel, don't," the Doctor snapped, but she either couldn't hear or didn't listen. Then, from the table, Gray's voice groaned:

"Captain?"

"Gray," Myers gasped, leaning over the table, "what's happened, man? Can you hear me?"

"The… the needle," Gray wheezed, "a crystal…" then he suddenly screamed again, resuming his mad thrashing as Misorel fell to the floor. There were tears in her eyes, and her breathing was shaky and shallow.

"Easy," the Doctor said gently, kneeling down and putting an arm round her.

"What did she do?" Gray asked.

"Iolans are empathic. She relieved some of the pain so that we could talk to him."

"I couldn't keep it up any longer," Misorel sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"The crystal," Gray muttered. "Jimmy- the boy who was with him- he said something hit him in the hand."

"Evidently, something did this to him on purpose," the Doctor said as he helped Misorel to her feet. "But if he isn't contagious, then it wasn't an attack on your crew. And the crystal… well, if it resembled a needle, we can assume this was done with premeditation. Very strange…"

"Here," Reeves handed him the chemical readout. "How did you know he wasn't contagious?"

"Well, if he was, it's the sort of thing you'd mention," the Doctor said, holding up the sheet of paper. "_Ah_. Ah, Gelarin poisoning."

"_What_ poisoning?"

"Gelarin. It's a chemical found chiefly in planets in the Geranton cluster. It certainly shouldn't be on this planet," the Doctor mused. "Still, I'm certain of it. A strong enough dose of antibiotics should stave off any further damage, but he'll need medical attention when you get back to Earth. Now, about these other crew members of yours?"

"What the hell is this man gibbering about?" Myers barked.

"Actually, just out of curiosity," the Doctor asked, "why _are_ you and your crew here?"

Myers visibly forced himself to calm down. "We're an exploration ship. We were sent to make peaceful contact with the Iolans. When we got here, people were blowing each other up, Gray got sick and three of my crew vanished into thin air. Now tell me, Doctor: has the same thing happened to them as Gray?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor answered, folding his arms and leaning back against one of the medical beds. "You see, it's the Shen that interested me."

"The Shen? Doctor, my men could be dead out there!"

"Yes, but you see, the war between the Shen and Iolans had ended. Therefore, if hostilities started again, something must have been responsible. Now, the Shen that we encountered was clearly affected by something."

"How do you know that?" Misorel asked.

"When I examined him, I found an injection mark on each of his wrists. He'd been drugged."

"Like Gray?" Reeves asked.

"No, he wasn't poisoned. But what I really don't understand is what anyone would have to gain from this. There is one possibility," he thought out loud, "but it's… abhorrent. A disgrace to everything here."

"What?" Myers pressed.

"Something, it seems, is simply _toying_ with the life forms on Rivesh. The Shen have been making advances, and the humans have been exploring the area- they're easily picked off. The Iolans, however, haven't been venturing outside of their city, so they haven't been affected?"

"What are you saying, Doctor? Something's just messing with us?"

"Maybe. I think I'd like to take a look at the spot where your man Gray was attacked."

"Feel free. And then you can jump back in whatever fancy ship you've got and leave."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

Myers gave a dry chuckle. "My crew and I came a hundred and twenty million light-years to be the first ones in Tsolan, Doctor. I'm not allowed to let you beat me to the punch."

---

"Well, Doctor, this is the spot."

The snow was smooth and undisturbed, and the Doctor, Misorel, Myers, Reeves and Jimmy were only a few hundred yards from the ship.

"It came up out of the ground," Jimmy said. "Like there was something lying under the snow."

"You'd be Jimmy, then," the Doctor noted.

"Y-yes, um, sir. James Vaught. Um- hi," he said to Misorel.

She smiled at him. "You don't need to be so frightened," she said, "the Doctor seems to know what to do."

"W-What?"

"Oh- I'm sorry. I forget humans can't read emotions. It must be strange."

"I've never really tried it the other way. But who is he?"

"I don't know," Misorel confessed. "I probably shouldn't be here- I could be exiled just for talking to any of you."

"_None of you move!"_

The assembled group looked up sharply. The Shen soldier emerged from the trees, shakily keeping his crossbow trained on them. "Show me your wrists," he ordered, then shouted "_show me your wrists!_" again when nobody moved.

Each one of the group held up their hand. The Shen stepped forward slowly, keeping the crossbow up, and examining them each in turn. In the case of Misorel, a brief look of disapproval crossed his face, and then he calmed down. "Alright."

"Who are you?" Myers demanded.

"My named is Chel Siven, of the Second Shen Guard. Or… I was."

"What happened?" the Doctor asked.

"Those... _things_… they took them. They drove them insane- put some kind of poison into them. They went mad… shot each other after a few seconds. I was the only one who got away."

"Well, that _is_ very interesting," the Doctor noted. "Where was this?"

"The Shining Caves. Right at the base of the mountains."

"That's where Simms and his team were sent," Myers butted in. "Whatever attacked your people, it's probably the same thing that took them."

"And there's one other obvious thing you're missing," the Doctor said with a sideways smile. "Any guesses?"

"The anger," Misorel realised. "He said that the Shen became angry after they were poisoned, and you found an injection on his arm. So if they were doing that to the Shen, maybe that has something to do with the attacks."

"Those were _retaliations_," Chel snapped. "If you didn't have these four on your side, I'd arrest you in the name of the Confederacy right now, Iolan!"

"Retaliation? The Iolans haven't even left the city since the attacks!"

"Think you can fool me, little witch? Our scouts have been going missing for months! We find them in the woods- burned, drowned, suffocated, sliced limb from limb. One or two we just found raving mad, or with their memory lost."

"All killed in different ways," the Doctor muttered. "Fascinating."

"What?"

"Oh, morally reprehensible, of course- but from a scientific standpoint, it's all terribly interesting. A different method of death each time, you say, and sometimes not even a death."

"Wait a minute- are you saying the attacks between this lot are just because of a misunderstanding?" Jimmy asked.

"I doubt it. Someone seems to have been very deliberate. They're poisoning and killing people for no reason one minute, and starting wars the next. I think I should take a look at these caves, you know."

---

In the trees, something small and crystalline coiled round the branch, looking down at the assembled party as they set off.

"_Inter-species interaction not consistent with previous records. Submit information to Overmind."_

"_Confirm. Analyse for new variables."_

"_Variable: Subject: Doctor. Influence results in unforeseen outcomes. Estimate High Intelligence: recommend for examination."_

"_Confirm."_

---

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" The Doctor looked round as Misorel lightly tugged on his arm to get his attention. "Yes?"

"Do you know what could be behind this?"

"No," the Doctor shook his head grimly. "Although I have my concerns."

"Why?"

"Well, I never really intended to end up on this planet," the Doctor expressed, "actually, I should be on the other side of the galaxy. But sometimes… well, my travels aren't always under my own guidance. _They_ sometimes put me in places where terrible things are going to happen."

"Who?"

"Oh, well that's an entirely different story. Still…"

"Doctor," Myers interrupted, "we're here."

The entrance to the cave was massive, at least triple the height of the seven-foot Chel. The wind howled from within it, and the stalagmites, turning into icles halfway down, glistening like gleaming fangs.

"Looks inviting," the Doctor said brightly. "Come on, then: let's meet the neighbours."

The Doctor entered first, followed by Misorel, Chel and Myers. Reeves and Jimmy followed, and, the moment they were across the threshold, the cave suddenly rumbled. A shimmering, crystalline web suddenly expanded from the sides of the cave mouth, covering the open space in seconds. More and more layers formed, until finally a complex, slightly-glowing wall of crystal separated them from the outside.

"Well," the Doctor noted, stepping toward the barrier, "we'd best hope there's another exit."

"Well you're the- whatever you are," Myers insisted, "if you're some kind of genius, haven't you got some kind of gadget?"

"Well, this _might_ work," the Doctor said innocently, removing the sonic screwdriver from his pocket, "but we were going into the caves anyway. What do you intend to do, sit around in the snow?"

Myers nodded grimly. "Jimmy, you and- what was your name?"

"Chel Siven."

"Yeah. Both of you, keep your guns steady. I don't want us walking blindly into anything."

The Doctor, meanwhile, had already proceeded further into the cave. Misorel ran to catch up with him, with Reeves close behind.

"You might want to stay back," the Doctor advised, "after all, we're still not sure what we're walking into-"

Then it happened. There was a howl of wind, and suddenly the floor started to crystallize. The air shimmered, ice beginning to form on every surface- including the forward three members of the group. "Jesus Christ!" Myers yelled, backing away, until the ice caught up with him as well.

Misorel shouted something above the whining noise that filled the air, as Chel fired off a useless shot into the spreading ice and the Doctor reached into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver. Then, in a flash of light, the cave stood still.

Every member of the party was frozen solid, trapped within a cylindrical block of ice.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Next Chapter: The villains are revealed, but what are their plans for the Doctor and his allies? And will the Doctor survive long enough to save Rivesh?_

_By the way, what did you dear readers think of the _Wayfarer _crew? And any guesses as to just what our alien villains are up to?_

_And I assume everyone can guess exactly who is manipulating the Doctor's travels._

_All Reviews Welcome!_


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